


Mission Feline

by 784



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29923179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/784/pseuds/784
Summary: Love is in the air, they said; yet the approaching Valentine's Day can be... unnerving.
Relationships: Aless | Ares/Leen | Lene





	Mission Feline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brau1589](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brau1589/gifts).



When she flipped the calendar last night, she was excited—February is here.

There’s no doubt that the season is finally moving to change. The nights don’t feel as cold, and there has been lesser snow fall as well. The latter delights her the most because that minimizes the possibility of having to shovel the snow so early in the morning. What can be better than spending longer time in a warm bed on a cold morning?

To be fair, her boyfriend usually does that for them. Ares—said boyfriend—typically wakes up earlier than she does to exercise every morning; a convenient arrangement between both of them because she prefers doing that in the evening. After all, cleaning the snow off their front yard is annoying. Standing bundled under cold weather to shovel a pile of cold white grains in the early morning? Unappealing—more so when the white grains aren’t food. What is a boyfriend for, then?

“Good morning.”

Her lips quirk devilishly when such gentle greeting pasts her ears. Ares has to be behind her. She can hear him just fine, feeling his breath over her hair. The greeting is delivered so softly as though he visited her in her dreams. It’s so easy to begrudge Ares, really—dear boyfriend never taps her to wake her up. Such thing is merely one of many other qualities she likes about him; after all, Ares knows her irregular hours as aspiring professional dancer requires recharge too.

“Lene…”

She lies still in bed. Admittedly it’s rather cheeky, pretending to be asleep like this. Coyly she bats her eyelashes, snuggling deeper into the blanket. Silently she begs for Ares to fall into this little act she pulls too—just this morning, this moment, just so she can hear him calling her name like that.

Back then, Ares used to tell her that he isn’t the sweetest man out there. From the mouth of dear boyfriend himself, she had it—couldn’t flirt, he said; hardly dandy… can’t say something enthralling like a good romance novel protagonist …. What a curious comparison. She hit him on the spot that this actually shows that he is more perceptive than people thought he was, and the moment he blushed hearing that, she knew she truly wanted to talk to this big cat more, and probably hold his hand too while she was at it.

To her disappointment, however, Ares doesn’t call her again. The world stills. The warmth which previously enveloped her fades away, and she starts regretting pulling that little act on him. Yawning softly, Lene turns around, feeling the bed bigger and emptier than usual. Ares definitely has gone to shovel the snow—

“My mom’s favorite blend.”

She gasps. When she whips her head, she finds Ares to casually stroll back into the room. The cup of tea in his hand smells so aromatic, enticing her appetite to start the day but not overwhelming. Refreshing but energizing, she can totally see why his mother loved it. Emotions hit her inside as she receives the cup from him—the privilege of tasting it, the companionship they share… perhaps February is that magical.

“Thank you~!”

… She should have known that when Ares observes, he does so sharply.

“What?” feeling his eyes on her, she lifts the cup higher. The ware swallows half of her face, providing the fortress she needs. If that gaze pierces, then she will need a good shield. And—seriously now, still blushing so easily even though they’ve been together for a year?

“You see,” Ares mutters calmly. “Rather cute to see you blinking whilst trying to fall back asleep.”

… He has the audacity to chuckle as she struggles to salvage that cup.

********

“I’m going to do this.”

“And how?”

“There has to be a way.”

“Definitely, but where?”

She drops her hands, frustrated. Beside her, Fee giggles softly, patting her on the back. The lunch is pleasant. Cold it might be, their jackets are cozy, and the little eatery where they are having meals is charming. “I guess you’ve got a point,” she whispers. Her hands immediately travel back to cover her face, hiding a blush. “I hate how easy he is to spot my antics.”

“And probably more,” Fee croons. “The Bragi Valentine will be glorious!”

That particular line prompts her to be silent. Valentine’s Day? True— _that_ has been on her mind since she flipped the calendar last night. She isn’t particular about the supposed celebration of love, but... “Valentine, huh...” muttering under her breath, her mind begins to float elsewhere. That will be the first February fourteenth she and Ares will experience as a couple. Is the snow making people melancholic, or is it the cold weather’s doing?

“Brooding!” Fee’s voice intrudes on her again. She gasps. Sheepishly she ruffles her hair, pretending her short-haired friend didn’t just fume like that. “You know,” unbothered, Fee keeps going regardless. “I thought we met up to discuss Operation Kitty.”

“What?”

“Oh, you know. Soft Ares, fluffy Ares, purring Ares, orange tabby—“

“Fee!” Lene sighs as Fee laughs. “Alright. He’s sweeter than what people gave a credit for, admittedly.”

“A hundred-percent natural sugar. No preservatives...” Fee keeps joking... at least until Lene vanquishes her with a pinch over the back of her hand. “O-ouch. Alright, alright! Seriously, if everything goes well between you two, then what’s the deal?” she pouts. “You said it yourself—Ares doesn’t do sweet just with anyone. What even is the problem?”

Lene pauses. The fork hangs mid-air instead of making another dive into her plate. No matter how appealing that pulled pork is, her mind wanders again. Yes, there’s truth in what Fee said just now. Yes, Ares doesn’t do ‘sweet’; speaking less but doing more just as most of their interactions have been so far. “Well, he _is_ nice...” her voice trails a little bit, letting her mind make another flight. Yes, her boyfriend is nice. Yes, her boyfriend treats her well—

... At the same time, perhaps it is _nicer_ if Ares would just speak more. If he would show his adoration of her with words—like her peers. The way Leif professed his love for Ares’ cousin Nanna when they had a double date at a karaoke booth. Sure, Leif’s voice was subpar at best and he sang _loud,_ but it was endearing to see his unashamed, blatant _I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND_ flag he flew every now and then. Even Seliph’s uncle Oifey was caught buying flowers for Uncle Shannan when she met him at the store for groceries!

“Um...” Lene fidgets with her dress. Fee is slurping her smoothie, and she knows this lunch will be over soon as soon as her best friend is done with the drink. Can she vent? Can she _corner_ Fee for an honest-to-God opinion without sounding so... desperate? After all Fee is right—her love life with Ares is fine so far! “You know, now that you mentioned it,” Lene continues, maintaining her tone normal. She has her pride too—no way she is going to _begrudge_ her own best friend! “I wonder if Arthur has something planned for... you know—“

Fee shoots Lene a sly smirk in return, prompting the latter to gulp. “I get it now,” the short-haired girl sing-songs. “You want a date idea.”

“A—what?”

“Right?” Fee blasts a finger-gun at Lene. “Hot date spots. And there’s no other person to consult besides this little old Fee. Because I follow trend. I read the glossy magazines you have a hate-love relationship with.”

“Cake recipes and weight-loss tips on the next page,” Lene grumbles. “Mixed signal!”

Fee chortles. “Well, we haven’t decided because we’re thrown between two plans...”

Lene goes silent again. Thrown between two plans? At least there’s a plan. Ares barely said anything when January reached its end. Her Ares is still simply Ares she knows even today, the first day of February! And the sacred fourteenth is going to grace them all in... what, two weeks?! And what did she hear just now? Arthur—Fee’s boyfriend—managed to formulate _two_ plans already? The more she thinks of this matter, the more frustrated she is!

“Oooh gods. What if Ares doesn’t love me?!”

Fee blinks sincerely.

“R-right, what if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if he thinks I’m childish?! I don’t hoard all the blankets every night, you see, only thrice a week!”

“Lene...”

“Alright, admittedly, I messed up,” Lene sighs. “I bought too many chocolate bars and they invaded his spice rack. I know, I’m horrible. But listen— _chocolate_ bars, Fee. Definitely better than any other bar out there. On discount! With suuuper nice creamy matcha filling and strawberries!”

Fee scratches her head.

“He made the bed five times last week because I was both too lazy and too sleepy at the same time,” Lene shudders. “Is this the sin that I have to pay now, right during the blissful month of love...”

“Leeeneee.” Unable to contain it any longer, Fee knows she needs to take a direct action... and that act manifests well, just like the fists she rolls over her friend’s cheeks. “To recap, you want a Valentine’s Day with Ares, isn’t it?”

“Ahaha, it can’t be, Fee~! Valentine’s Day is a scam so that people shop a lot more in order to impress their loved ones! I am not going to be dragged into a celebration of loose purse like that! After all, love is eternal, and gifts expire! If you truly love that special someone, you wouldn’t need a calendar to validate it, right?”

“Mm-hmm. True,” Fee replies... silkily. “But you _want_ a feline Valentine.”

Lene stares at Fee with an open mouth.

“Am I right, or am I right?” Fee shrugs.

“Um...”

“That’s another hum. Then I _am_ right!” Fee truly cackles now. Lene couldn’t care less—she is busy salvaging her face from the sudden blaze which bakes her cheeks. Alright, perhaps Fee is right-right. Perhaps she _does_ want that feline Valentine with this dearest lion she gets to call a boyfriend. Perhaps she really wants a romantic evening with Ares Nordion, machine engineering major, a car salon technician; allegedly allergic to sweets and will die if the food isn’t spicy—

“Perhaps,” Lene squeaks. Gods. She can’t even look at Fee in the eyes now! “But I don’t want to come across demanding.” There’s a surge of relief oozing out of her pores after she said that, however—who knows a simple confession can lift the burden by half? Did she just confess to Fee that she wants Ares to spoil her? Oh, dear. This better be worth it. Fee better be not laughing too!

“There!” Fee claps her hands, startling Lene. “That is the root of the problem. Then easy. Tell him! Make Ares knows what you want!”

“T-tell Ares?”

“Yes? Except you have something else in mind...”

“Quit joking, will you?” flustered, Lene nearly loses it all to yell at Fee. However Fee simply smiles, grinning from one corner to another while Lene blushes madly. “Okay,” she breathes in. “Yes. There, you have it. I want an Ares Valentine.”

“He changed his last name?” Fee quips—which turns into a gulp at an instant because Lene glares at her. “Right. You want to celebrate this with him, but you don’t want to look like you are pressuring him to get you something nice,” she pauses, silently glad because this time Lene nods—perhaps too eager, judging from how fast and enthusiastic that head bob the aspiring professional dancer is making. “Is there a chance that he might... refuse? Like, if he’s short on money. If your house needs a repair or something. If you just bought some expensive essentials—“

“Wow,” Lene blurts. “You are thorough.”

“Of course, duh. What is courtship, if not the art of war made dainty?”

Lene pouts. Fee pats her head.

“Those questions make sense, though,” Lene holds up her hands, giving up. “And no, as much as I recall. See, I get paid nicely when doing a dance gig, but Ares’ income is more stable and consistent. He’s going to be an engineer, so I suppose there isn’t really anything worrisome at the moment...”

“Hashtag humble and blessed,” now _Fee_ pouts. “But see, this is what I mean. What are you afraid of then? He should be loaded enough to get you something.”

“Even if you said so...” Lene murmurs. Oh, no. How extremely disappointing it is to find out her strawberry smoothie is no more. This has come into this, so she unapologetically drinks off Fee’s cup. Too late for Fee to prevent that happening.

“Lene,” Fee says. The tone is comforting yet firm; making Lene to drop everything she is doing right away. That has to be the mom-friend tone—who knows cheery Fee has the talent to pull one? “As cool as he is, your Ares isn’t a mind-reader.”

... Lene begrudges herself for blushing when Fee said that. Her Ares? “Well,” she clears her throat. “That is certainly true...”

“I understand that plainly asking like that can be hard, though,” Fee smiles this time. “So why don’t you try hinting what you want to him? Operation Kitty commence! He’s quite perceptive, isn’t he—eventually he’ll pick the clue!”

“If he doesn’t?” Lene laughs nervously.

“Have you even tried?”

That last line seals it for her. Yes, Fee is glaring in frustration, but at the same time the best friend is right—what can she lose if she hasn’t even tried?

********

Operation Kitty commences. Mission Lion is ready to be launched!

Lene waits eagerly for Ares to come home that evening. Not only that, she sets everything to keep the mood nice. She knows his habit very well by now—some cooling down, a bath, then a hearty dinner. Working with equations and heavy tools tire both the body and the mind, a nice meal and watching TV with a cuddle should remedy that nicely! However turns out everything makes her nervous. On a typical day, she knows she can just sit Ares down if they need to have a serious conversation. But now? She hates feeling dispirited when she hears him at the door.

Ares _blinks._ The house has turned into something... different when he comes in. First thing first, it smells nice. Second, is it just him or does the living room appear more decorated than usual? He could have sworn everything appears to be fancier. There is something about the house which screams festivity; this he realizes as he ventures deeper into the living room.

“Welcome, dearest~!”

Ares stops right away. He seriously starts weighing in whether he has stepped into the wrong house without realizing it. There are flowers everywhere! He didn’t even know they have several vases like that. The flowers are colorful... and he has to admit he isn’t aware there’s a florist nearby to accommodate the purchase. However there has to be no mistake—Lene herself strolls out, welcoming him with a big smile and... a plate of something _aromatic_ and appealing on her hands. Not only that—his beloved girlfriend puts on a cute pink apron over her already-cute dress! Now this seals everything for him—after all who likes all the bright colors in this house if not her?

“... Lene?” finally he manages to say something. Out of reflex, he looks back and forth. Is this a prank? Is she forced to do this? Is an asshole hiding in their love nest, waiting to wrap both of them into some kind of a sick game?

“Yeees, Ares~?”

Ares scratches his head. That smile is too bright. The way she calls his name is still as sweet as he remembers—too carefree to note that something happened while he was gone. Or is it why then? Being made to wait at the dentist once caused him to mindlessly grab one of those random magazines whilst the person before him had his veneer done. And this article said women conceal a lot and say so little, so...

“Babe,” he says, planting his hands over her shoulders so abruptly. His cute girlfriend there appears to be surprised by the sudden endearment he used, but her eyes light up right away, noting that she welcomes it. “Do tell,” Ares whispers, ushering her closer to the front door. Will he need to anticipate a sudden... attack? For some stranger with a ski mask wielding a machete to jump at them out of the blue? Then no, not going to happen—otherwise, what is that black belt for? “Is there anyone... no, I mean...” dumbfounded, he looks at her still. How does he even ask without sounding too suspicious or too demanding at the same time? “What bet did I lose?”

Now that sounds better. He can take a breath.

“Bet? We didn’t even watch any sport game recently!”

Ares stares in shock. True—they didn’t. Something dawns on him then, and with a gulp, he braces for the impact as he asks the dreadful question. “Is there an event I forgot?” he says. “This isn’t your birthday today, is it?”

Much to his relief, however, Lene chuckles. “Nooope~ and you know you’ve never missed so far.”

“I can only hope I won’t,” Ares scratches his head. Lene smiles and he lets himself being led to the couch. She sets the food there, and he notes there’s also a drink waiting for him on the table. He can barely muster a reply when she hums, pressing her hands over his shoulders as he bends to take off his shoes.

“Are you tired?” she asks. “Hungry? How was it today?”

“Oh, thank you...” dumbfounded, he picks up the plate. Heavenly taste colors his palate so well the moment he takes a bite. Lene’s cooking still tastes superb as always, and he silently vows to step up his game so he can make her a better meal. “Today is just—usual. Eh, tiring as always, but manageable. Heavy lifting here and there because there was this milling machine I tried to get running, but Altena helped me,” he says. “Do I look messy?”

“You normally don’t care,” she smirks.

“I don’t indeed,” he shrugs. “But I care about you.”

... She _really_ forgets Ares can just say the sweetest things with a straight face. “If you want seconds, just tell me,” by then her voice is rather soft. “I’ve filled the tub with hot water for you as well~! Enjoy.” Her hand dives in to snatch the phone on the couch. She really needs to text Fee now. Where should she start? What to do next? Ares is unassuming as always—how can she even approach this subject? Telling him to get her something nice for February fourteenth? What will he say?

She can hear Ares’ soft hum then. He puts down his fork already, downing the refreshing orange juice she took out of the fridge just as quickly. Perhaps her feline is indeed hungry. Milling machine is pretty big. It needs some muscle to install too—perhaps she shouldn’t rush this. Her boyfriend is prime, but even the strongest can be tired too. February only starts, after all. Perhaps...

“Ah...” Lene turns around, feeling a gentle tug on her hand. Unexpected to her, Ares pulls her back. There’s light in his eyes when her gaze collides with his own, followed by a gentle head-bob when she tilts her face at him. “Ares?”

“Come on now,” his guttural voice lightly teases her senses. “If you’re serving me like that, I might think I’ve come back to the wrong house.”

“W-well,” Lene clears her throat. “I thought you’re tired.”

“Maybe,” Ares sets back the empty juice glass. “But that tub is big enough for two and I need to thank my cute girlfriend.”

********

Fee scratches her head.

Before her, Lene drops her head, her trademark ponytail swaying back and forth. Crossing her arms over the table, she sighs into the darkness before whining again because her forehead bumps against the desk. Right when Fee is about to check, Lene lifts her face, her expression being so comical that Fee struggles to maintain her composure as well. Puffed cheeks, pleading expression—what happened to the cheerful dancer?

“I tried,” Lene says before Fee manages to ask anything. “I followed your suggestion. You’re right, though—how would he know if he wasn’t aware of it?”

“And then?” Fee asks. Nervousness begins to plague her head. Did Lene and Ares fight? Is she the cause, since she suggested this idea to Lene? Fingers-crossed, she prays for the best. Lene has never looked this happy before she and Ares got together. Likewise, that robotic feline isn’t really known to be engaging anyone this deeply so far. If this match is made in heaven, how dare a mere mortal like her broke this off?

“Well...” Lene inhales deeply. Her mind starts wandering again. The coffee shop she frequents to meet Fee is busy—people have been coming in and out for a hot drink to withstand this winter weather remnant. They need to be quick so someone who needs a table can take theirs, but this time she isn’t interested—she really needs a counsel. “I just couldn’t.”

Fee _stares_ at her.

“I know, I know!” Lene sighs, defeated. “Ares was nice and I just—“

“... If he is nice, shouldn’t it easy to talk to him?” Fee frowns. “What’s the problem here?”

Lene clasps her hands in front of her, expression being sheepish. “Exactly why. Since he’s too cute like that, how could I? I wonder what I should ask too.”

The stare Fee mustered slowly evolves into a frustrated glare. “Hold on,” she says. “You want Ares to give you a Nordion Valentine, but you _don’t_ even know what you want as a gift?”

Lene nods slowly.

“Holy salted herring!” Fee almost leaps off her chair. “Seriously?”

“There _are_ things I want, you know,” Lene pouts. “But I can’t decide.”

“For two weeks?” Fee lets out a dinosaur sigh. “From the first day of blessed February to _now,_ February thirteenth?”

“I can’t possibly ask him to get me both!” Lene nearly yells too, flustered. “The pendant is cute, but the hairpin is majestic. Then the ribbon is elegant—wait, you are not going home. Don’t break up with me like that.”

“Romantic!” Fee rolls her fists over Lene’s temples. “And Ares?”

“... Don’t laugh,” Lene barks.

“You know I will,” Fee replies sourly. “At you, though.” She yelps when Lene takes turn pinching her nose. “Okay,” Fee jabs her nails straight towards Lene’s ribs. “What _is_ the problem then, Bragi? A boyfriend that is too nice, except he is a cat?”

“Admittedly, everything is perfect,” Lene comments sullenly. “But...”

“But?” Fee asks again. First she was nervous, but now she is... worried. If everything is perfect ‘but’, then it isn’t perfect! When Lene recovers from the ostrich position she is making, Fee knows it—stories are coming!

Lene recounts her attempts to her best friend. Contrary to what Fee thinks, she isn’t a quitter—this she states vehemently that Fee has no choice but saying yes. Ares’ sudden sweetness did take her so smoothly that day, but it isn’t like she stopped trying... except her efforts backfire gloriously, and the alleged feline boyfriend didn’t even have to try for it.

“Something is coming, you know...~” she nudged Ares some other night. They were bundled at the living room—studying, with faint TV sounds which accompanied them as a house-warmer. Ares had flipped his notebook many times. His calculator changed position often. She, on the other hand, had tried varying some keywords to yield better results on Google Scholar. Both were busy.

“My exams,” Ares replied simply in the typical manner he does. Annoyed but not discouraged, Lene tried again, however.

“No. Something else,” she crooned. “Think of it, meow.”

“Your exam?” Ares asked innocently. Lene chugged a cushion at his head.

“Make it clearer then!” Fee comments the moment Lene paused to take a breath. “Boys are dumb and this is a cat.”

“I did...” Lene sighs louder.

Recounting other occasions she spent just to make Ares aware that the sacred February fourteenth is coming, her stories come like flood. She is desperate. She needs a solution, and this is February thirteenth! Tricking Ares to watch a romance movie with her? Done that. Yes, Ares frowned at that too, but he gladly made a room for her movie at the expense of watching a local football match. She snuggled up to him, expecting the atmosphere to do the job, but...

“Are you cold?” Ares innocently asked. “I’ll get the blanket.”

And from there, her fail count only went up. When the heroine in the movie they were watching received a flower bouquet from her love interest, Lene pinched Ares’ cheeks... to ensure he didn’t miss the scene. “What do you think?”

“Dude’s broke, but he’s hiding it,” Ares remarked simply.

That response paved a way for her then. “You know,” she nudged him again. “I need you to know that you can talk to me about anything, including this...”

“This, as in?”

“If you are struggling,” she worded her reply carefully. “Financially.”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously, Ares...”

“Right. Now that you said it,” Ares said. “I have to confess.”

“Oooh, finally! Listen, I’ll still love you no matter what. You can trust me about this. I don’t mind a small gift including that broke-bouquet we just saw! Money can be earned, right? What does a day signify compared to us walking this path hand-in-hand again~? This shouldn’t be a problem for a power couple like us. Y-yes, I’m sure that velvet pink ribbon will be restocked! Hairpins can be _so mean_ to your roots. A pendant like that is cute and cheap but it’s not like...”

“Like?”

“... It’s not like it’s going to be sold-out within days...”

“Lene?”

“N-never mind...”

“... Are you sobbing?” Ares goggled his eyes.

“No way. I’m not a material girl—no—“

“Who called you names?! I’ll deck him clean and blue.”

“Forget it. What is the confession again...”

“Ah. I just remembered I took twenty last night for the groceries tomorrow. Didn’t want to wake you up, but I totally forgot informing you, so...”

“... Ares...”

“L-Lene?” Ares gasped because she thwacked his head.

“You are so dumb, I hate you!”

The night ended awkwardly, and not even the most flowery speech could salvage how astonished Fee’s expression is. Lene finishes her cake, taking big chunks to save face... alright, _scorched_ cheeks, perhaps, sourly glaring at Fee too in return.

“You have comments,” she accuses.

“Of course I do,” Fee sticks her tongue at her back. “That’s how things ended between you two, then? Lene, you were sooo close. Couldn’t you just—tell him?” she winces upon seeing Lene shake her head. “And days passed without anything?”

This time, Lene nods desperately.

“Gods,” Fee whines.

“I know, I know,” Lene sighs too. “I chickened out. But it’s not like you can just tell Ares you want him to give you something nice for the Valentine’s Day...”

Fee smiles this time. “Of course I can’t,” she says, patting Lene’s head before the best friend ventures deeper in self-deprecation mode. “Because I’m not dating him—unlike you.”

The line successfully nails Lene to look at her, and Fee can see her best friend is back—those determined eyes, the silent attentiveness; she knows Lene is tuning in. With the right advice, perhaps the dancer can cast off her self-doubt and confront... ahem, facing the problem straight for the one that truly matters.

“Lene,” Fee smiles, warmly squeezing the dancer’s hand. “Do you like Ares?”

Lene gives a shy nod, but the gesture is not at all weak. Tilting her chin to look at Fee, her eyes spark courage. The spirited Lene is back. “I love Ares,” this she states firmly—clear voice, straight to the point. “I know he’s clueless at times but his heart is in the right place. He makes a sweet lover.”

“Then talk to him,” Fee says. “Tell him this instead of me. Uh-huh, you are doubtful again. Have you tried?”

“Well...” Lene fidgets. Fee gently slaps her hands off that too.

“What if he is clueless because you are the only person he has ever dated?”

Lene blinks.

“Or like,” Fee giggles now. “The only person he has ever romanced this far, you know. This serious. This intense and sincere—and he doesn’t know what to do with his own feelings except understanding that he wants to make you happy?” unhesitant, Fee bops Lene in the nose. The latter grumbles. “Look at you, though. You being so hesitant to speak means you want to make him happy too, right?”

“I’d be lying if...” Lene argues, but she stops talking right away because Fee _grins_ like the Cheshire Cat in front of her. “What?”

“Because,” Fee lightly kneads Lene’s cheeks... laughing vivaciously at Lene’s pouting lips. “He’s not the only one struggling here. You too.”

Lene pauses.

“I know catching feelings is weird,” Fee continues. “But it’s not like it’s bad. Now that you are together, aren’t feelings best to be shared and... communicated?”

That truly yanks Lene off her reverie. Hastily she grabs her purse and coat whilst Fee merely smiles, understanding that they will part ways here. She pretends Lene isn’t turning into a blurbing mess, muttering how she will surely find Ares to talk... and apologize this time. That _yes,_ she hates her for being so savagely right about it—she loves him, alright, exactly why the matter isn’t easy for her. With fifty-shades of pink, the dancer confesses that she has never been romantically involved with someone else this far... this serious, this intense... with so much passion and sweetness blending harmoniously, tugging on every thread of her heartstrings. This kind of relationship has never even crossed her mind so far, but then Ares came into her life, making her heart throb and her stomach cartwheel. And then...

“Thank you very much,” sheepishly, Lene swims into Fee’s amiable arms. “I’m so sorry for this. I mean...”

“Shush,” Fee remarks calmly. “Go get your lion cub. It’s alright, everyone is a little dumb when they are in love,” she glances down, finding a precious notification decorating her lock screen. Arthur’s text just came in, affirming their plan for the weekend. Oh, if only Lene knew they gave no damn about the upcoming sacred fourteenth! But to each bird its own nest, and sometimes it takes another trip to another nest in order to perceive one’s own better.

 _Ready at your command,_ the text from Arthur says. Fee smiles, typing back. Perhaps popular things aren’t always bad, and Valentine can be nice too.

********

Lene rushes.

Ares should be concluding his shift at the repair shop now—or shortly after. There’s so much she wants to tell him, including absolving the feline boyfriend for being so... clueless. Alright, different species, different style of courtship. But then again it’s _him_ that she values the most—and it is not like his flawed days outweigh his great days as a partner. If he can learn, then so can she—

Somehow she wants to smile. What is she even arguing about again? Just thinking of him alone makes her heart flutter. It will be enough to see him, dragging him to watch one of those cheesy movies. Or being dragged to watch yet another sport game which rules she actually couldn’t be assed to care about, basking in the comfort that Ares can’t be _fucked_ to care that she doesn’t care. They can just cuddle on the couch. Ares cooks like a Spartan soldier about to commit carnage, yes—but he knows the best places to grab snacks and order from with a reasonable price.

“Gods,” she murmurs. “Who cares if he got me that pendant or not?”

... Speaking of which, it also downs on her that she practically has nothing to gift him for the sacred fourteenth. Oh, dear lord, does she want to be plunged into a figurative manhole now—come to think of it, what does he even need? Ares rarely complains. He usually warns her when it pertains to _their_ shared goods, like the groceries which need to be refilled, half-empty porcelain cleaner for their toilet. This month’s rent. Her carelessly dumping personal laundry into his basket, which he warned her about because working with machines means more dirty, oily shirts to be washed about if not to stain that precious karate gear in white—

Lene presses her hand over her mouth. Her eyes begin to be... blurry. Foggy, like morning mirage at this beautiful hill she went hiking to last weekend with Ares in tow. Hazy, like her mind when Ares simply picked her up to carry all the way down from the top since she sprained her ankle. Blank too—like her incoherent response when he asked if she was alright... because he touched her so gently as he checked her ankle whilst kindly reminding her not to blame herself.

... And Ares is not a mind-reader, yes; even if she wants to condemn him, she can start by telling him what he needs to know—

“Ares?” one of the mechanics glances at her. “Gone a moment ago.”

“Already?” Lene’s eyes widen.

“He said he was in a hurry,” the mechanic informs her. “I thought he’s meeting you or something? He mumbled your name before he left.”

Definitely not. Something isn’t right. The longing feels stronger than ever and she just needs to—

... Not necessary.

She doesn’t need to whip her phone out of her purse because—because Ares is there, right in front of her. There’s a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and he looks just as equally surprised to find her there. As though being put under a spell, she steps aside—sudden shyness swallows her as a whole, casting yet another cloud to question her right to be there. When Ares moves, she wonders about the flowers—

Her heart sinks. Ares walks past her. Ares just—

“Yeah, this right here. Hope your mother recovers quickly.”

Lene stares.

“Oh, you got them! Thanks, man.” The previous mechanic who chatted with her pats Ares on the shoulder, bobbing his head at her. “I’m taking overtime,” he explains before Lene can say anything else. “My mom is at the hospital because of food poisoning. Since this dude is leaving earlier than me, I thought...”

“I thought I could pick some of these on his behalf before the florist closes,” Ares chuckles. “So...”

So he cannot continue talking.

Lene dives straight towards him. He didn’t anticipate that coming, but his chest is ready to welcome her regardless—as he always does. Not even the less affectionate men aren’t interested to make their lovers happy, and he belongs in that pack. He shares a lot with his girlfriend, anyway—and is willing to share more. Her being on his chest also feels fitting as though they are made for each other...

Oh, he can only hope. He has been spending the past few days in thoughts. What drove the cherished girlfriend angry? Diarmuid smacks his head every now and then, but this is his cousin; or in other words, who cares. Nanna did tell him to be more open and at least _try_ to be more eloquent than a frog...

He hugs back. He anticipates being chided again for being so clueless, but to his pleasant surprise and relief, Lene smiles instead.

“You are freezing,” she points out. “Like a frog!”

The other mechanic chuckles while Ares starts pondering something else. What is it with the women in his life and a frog? Did a frog brainwash them? Plotting to take over the world, threatening them when found out? Nice try—he can sautee this asshole when he finishes watching another cooking video tonight.

“I thought...” he scratches his head. “Were you mad because I’ve been coming home late recently?”

“No, actually...” she glances at him and the colleague. He nods then, taking her away from the shop after glaring at the colleague who wishes him “a very nice day,” after praising him for the flowers.

“It’s just that,” he grumbles. “No need to be so loud...”

He says that, but she catches the faint blushes across his cheeks. They walk to get the car with his hand holding hers, which she squeezes warmly. There’s no way she is lettng go. She needs to talk to him—more than that, she will let him know that she treasures this big cat just as much...

“Lene,” Ares calls. “Perhaps this isn’t the right place, but...” he scratches his head. “I don’t want to argue at dinner.”

“Neither do I,” she replies, snuggling up closer to him. When he looks at her with a such perplexed expression, she clears her throat. “I want to talk to you,” she says. “But eh—you first.”

“You first.”

“Nooo, it’s okay~! You are in the middle of speaking, anyway!”

“Alright...” Ares clears his throat too. “I didn’t do anything with Altena.”

“What?!”

“I thought that’s what’s been bothering you,” he mutters sheepishly. “Because I’ve been returning home late, and because of all these projects with her. I don’t think you are... but I guess if that troubles you, then...” he takes a pause. “You need to know that for me it’s just you and only you all along.”

Just then he gasps.

Lene pulls his mullet—gently, just gently so that he bends down to match her height. Priceless is his expression because Lene giddily plants a kiss on his cheek, vanquishing the spirit he tries to maintain. “I’ve never doubted you about that.”

“Really?” he blinks.

“Sure~! And please, befriend Altena or whoever you want as like.”

“... Hmm.”

“I know technically I shouldn’t prevent you, anyway. It’s just...”

“You were uneasy?”

“No. Something else. Because I’m dumb too,” Lene whispers. “And you know what, no romcom tonight. Let’s watch one of those murder movies of yours.”

“It’s football,” Ares frowns. “Leif taped the match for me.”

“Oh, r-right. Same thing,” Lene chuckles nervously. “I want to speak to you, but your coworker said you left early. I’d... like to say sorry... um, didn’t know you wanted to buy flowers for his mother, either. Eh...”

“Ah, right. That,” shrugging, Ares digs into his pocket... and pulls out a box. It’s wrapped with a such festive-colored paper, which he places on her hand. His gentle smirk makes her legs lose its footing, but this time the cheeky feline in him persists. “And other things for tomorrow.”

She gasps.

“So,” castrating his octaves so casually, he croons on her. “... What are you sorry for again, Lene...?”


End file.
